


Because Everything Went So Well The First Time

by BlueLaceAgate



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: (not for Thelonius Jaha we all know he sucks), Abby Griffin's Deeply Flawed Life Choices, Above Canonical Levels of Communication, Adults Mess Everything Up, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Typical Dumb Teenage Nonsense, Canonincal Levels of Trauma, Dealing With Trauma, Do-Over, Everyone Has a Hero Complex, Families of Choice, Finn Collins Being an Asshole, Fix-It, Found Family, In This House We Let Characters Say Fuck, It Will Get Gay Eventually Don't Worry, Platonic Life Partners, Redemption Arcs, Thelonious Jaha Being an Asshole, Time Travel, Time Travel Fix-It, Wells Jaha Lives, canon typical angst, complex characters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-05
Updated: 2020-07-21
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:33:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23021773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueLaceAgate/pseuds/BlueLaceAgate
Summary: It's a second chance they're not sure they want, but they're going to make the best of it anyway. They're not going to let their family down, not again. Because, well, they've all got a bit of a hero complex in their own ways, don't they?
Comments: 13
Kudos: 81





	1. Feet on the Ground

**Author's Note:**

> The first few chapters will follow canon pretty closely, and a fair amount of the dialogue is direct form the show, but that'll change as things get further along.

It was like blinking. One moment he was standing, staring at their new home, their new planet, their chance for peace, and the next . . . It was bright, and it was green, and it smelled like . . . It smelled like the ground. Like dirt and trees and smoke. There were trees in front of him, great pines that loomed like giants, branches thick with leaves and moss. That didn’t make any sense.

Someone behind him let out a whoop of joy, loud and bright. Bellamy twitched, self control kicking in to stop him from jumping, or attacking, the other person. The only thing he’d heard that loud had been gunfire lately, or furious yelling. This wasn't either, but it still raised his hackles like it was. It startled him out of his daze. Sharp eyes scanned the scene in front of him. It looked . . . It looked like the ground. Like the area around the dropship before . . . everything.

More voices sounded behind him, laugher and shouts of joy. Bodies started to tumble down around him, pushing and streaming. He watched as if in a dream. This had to be a dream, didn’t it?

A shoulder caught his own, and Bellamy caught himself from swinging at the perpetrator, who was in an instant far out in front of him, arms outstretched and spinning. He recognised then faintly, one of the 100 that had died earlier than most, looking clean and happy. They had pushed him into another body though, and his gaze was pulled downwards.

Hazel eyes, brutal and filled with fire, stared up at him from a soft, young face.

“O.” He breathed. She looked so real. So young.

Her face twisted through emotions. Relief, concern, confusion, anger, disbelief. “Bell -” She cut herself off with a shake of her head, hand halfway to his face before she snatched it away.

Those were his sister’s eyes in his sister’s face, but something was off. Those were the eyes of the young woman who had endured underground for five years and risen as Bloodreina, who had led her people against a more advanced enemy descended from the sky and won, in the face of the rebellious girl whose highest achievement was being the first of the 100 to set foot on the ground.

Her eyes were still on his. They recognized him, saw what he saw. His body fet different. Softer, a little ganglier. More awkward and without the muscle memory life on Earth had beat into him to survive.

“Bellamy, what -” she cut herself off again, wide eyes following something behind him, frozen stiff.

He turned his head over his shoulder, gaze following hers and noting the lack of curls falling into his eyes. He heard a familiar laugh. Jasper. A young, whole Jasper. Looking as awkward and joyful as he had at the very beginning, before the ground had broken him. And Monty, behind him, looking just as young and even less self assured. His heart ached seeing them like that, shy smiles and wide eyes. They were oblivious to their watchers, Jasper careening forward with a whoop of delight and Monty darting after him.

“Bellamy?” A confused voice interrupted his, probably creepy, watch.

“Murphy?” He turned bodily to stare. Yeah, Murphy. He looked young and weaselly and so much more like the boy who had, who he had, hung for a murder that he hadn’t committed than he did like the proud, resourceful man Bellamy knew. There was something to the set of his shoulders though, the way his brow crinkled and the way his hand scrubbed down his face. 

“I’ve got to be dreaming. Tell me I’m dreaming.” Murphy’s voice was a little higher, and definitely as tired and hysterical as Bellamy felt.

He let out a high, sharp bark of laughter. Fuck, he hoped that was all this was.

Murphy groaned. Somehow, it was more believable that the world had screwed them again than that this was the weirdest and most vivid dream he’d ever had.

“Murphy?” Bellamy would know that voice anywhere. Clarke. Clarke who sounded very confused. And very young.

She was leaning on the side of the dropship, looking to have jumped down from the ramp. Her feet were planted firmly in the dirt and she looked like she was pushing herself to stay standing. Desperate blue eyes found his.

“No.” She sounded heartbroken. And yeah, Bellamy could understand that. After everything they had gone through . . . He hoped this was just a weird dream. Except, he didn’t have dreams like this now days. His dreams were full of gunfire and the scent of death and burning and screams and accusations, if he dreamed at all. He hoped this was all a dream.

The shouts and laughter of the others, the 100, all alive and happy around him, it echoed in his ears like it was miles away. Clarke pushed herself off the side of the dropship in a daze. One step after the other, she srtode forwards, wide eyes sweeping the forest. One step after another after another. Bellamy was frozen for a moment, watching her trek forwards with his feet bolted to the ground, the only steady thing around him.

It was only when another familiar face began to follow her that he started forwards. His long legs ate up the ground just a second behind Finn. They both caught Clarke some ways from the dropship but not quite out of the clearing the landing had carved. She had a roll of paper that could only be the map in her hand, fingers white knuckle tense in an almost gripless gentleness. She was staring directly at Mt. Weather.

“Why so serious, Princess.” The boy grinned cheekily at her, eyes following hers to the mountain in the distance. “It’s not like we died in a fiery explosion.”

Clarke turned to face him, face drained of blood and mouth open in a small o.

Bellamy clapped a hand on his shoulder, wracking his brain for anything to say for a solid couple seconds. It probably looked like intentional intimidation to the kid, and he was fine with that. “Maybe you should tell that to the two kids who followed you out of your seat.”

He remembered that, remembered the first two graves. Remembered how heavy that had seemed then, and all the plots that had followed. He hadn’t dug those first two, hadn’t visited them for a long time, hadn’t wanted to think about it too hard, how mortal they all were down there. Then Atom had died, and he’d dug that grave next to the others. He’d had help at first with the digging, but no one had really wanted to fill it back in. Not for long. You could pretend you were just digging another pit when you dug a grave, but you couldn’t do that when you were piling the dirt back on. Or when you stripped the bodies of friends for useful clothing and items they so desperately needed. He’d been on his own by the end, too stubborn to quit even when his arms burned from the weight of using a shitty makeshift shovel to heave wet dirt along the same path over and over and over. When it was done he sat there filthy and exhausted and painfully mortal and he’d cried for the first time since the dropship crashed.

Finn’s lips pursed and his eyebrows knotted. He shrugged off the hand and took a short, deep breath. Brat was pissed. He turned back to Clarke, face morphing again into a wide smile. “You don’t like being called Princess, do you Princess.”

Clarke shook her head, half in denial and half in disbelief. “I’m not a Princess.” She sounded dizzy. Her eyes fell back to the mountain. “That’s where we were supposed to land, Mt. Weather.” She sounded relieved, confused, strained, and there was a laughing edge to her voice that took him a second to process.

Mt. Weather. They were supposed to land on Mt. Weather. He laughed, a half covered incredulous snort at the ridiculousness. He never knew how lucky they had been before. He had cursed their bad luck at landing on the wrong mountain, away from all the supplies. And now . . . 

Finn looked at him like he was crazy.

Bellamy shrugged. “We’re on the wrong damn mountain.” Which was funny, because all things considered, this was a much better mountain.

Behind him, maybe twenty paces away, Murphy started laughing.


	2. First Priority

Clarke bent over the map. It had been a long time since she had been back here, and she wished her memory of the area was better. They needed to be prepared. This was an old map, too. She didn’t even know how accurate it was anymore. She remembered there had been inaccuracies, but not what those were or where. They’d need to find the river again, definitely. Water was their first priority. A plan had to be their second.

She might not know what was going on, exactly, or why it was happening, but she wasn’t going to let them stumble through this all again blind. That had done enough damage the first time around. And damn, she caught herself as she thought of that, referred to whatever was going on as a reset even if just in her head. It didn’t feel like a dream, but thinking about this as a new beginning was almost as painful as thinking about redoing every one of the most wretched moments of her life.

“We got problems.” Wells’ voice startled her. She had been avoiding looking at him, avoiding thinking about him too really. She hadn’t thought about him in a long time. So much had happened since his death. Seeing him like this, somehow it was worse than seeing Finn. Wells had been her past, and his death had been the death of her rose colored glasses. It took a second for her to look up at him, but he plowed on ahead, unaware that her hesitance came from something other than hostility caused by his lie. Which was another thing she had to deal with.

“The communications system is dead.” He looked grim, almost innocently so. Not the kind of grim she was used to. The kind that knew what death looked like. “I went to the roof, a dozen panels are missing. Heat fried the wires.” He looked so . . . He looked like a lost child. That’s what he was. What they all were, except for her family, broken as they were innocence was something they all struggled to remember.

“Well,” Clarke glanced down at the map then back up to Wells, “what matters now is finding water, and then food if we can.”

“What about Mt. Weather?” His eyebrows sunk down his forehead.

She sighed and looked back down at the map. “Alright, this” she tapped a finger on one spot “is roughly where we are, and this” she dragged her finger across the terrain “is Mt. Weather. It’s bare minimum 20 miles out there, some of it uphill. A lot of it uphill.” Clarke looked up at him steadily. “You think we can get everyone organized enough to make it that far? You think anyone’s going to listen?” They hadn’t wanted to last time. She and Bellamy could probably make them, if they worked together, but going to Mt Weather was about the last thing she wanted to do.

“Oh, cool, a map.” Jasper sounded so much happier, so much more relaxed, than she remembered. Even as he interrupted. “They got a bar in this town? I’ll buy you a beer.”

Clarke blinked at him for a second. Of course. Of fucking course that’s where he’d go with that. He was trying to flirt with her. She huffed a laugh, and shook her head, grinning almost despite herself.

Wells was less amused and pushed the other boy back a few steps. “You mind?” It would have been cute how protective he thought he had to be, if it wasn’t so annoying.

“Woah, woah, hey!” Jasper looked mortally offended. Clarke saw Monty a few paces back, shifting on his feet and looking like the last thing he wanted was to intervene. Always the pacifist. He’d kept them human in ways she would forever be grateful for.

“Hey!” Murphy had a way of twisting even his barked commands into something almost casual, and the familiarity of that eased something in her gut. “Hands off him.”

It was with some amusement that she noted the posse of rough looking boys behind him as the much younger looking man strutted forwards. A hunting party? Or just causing some mayhem? Either way, the whole scene echoed like a disjointed deja vu. The way Murphy moved was different though, different from before and different from the other boys. Quiet, cautious, predatory grace and confidence. It probably looked like bluster to the others, the way his body shifted in almost a swagger, but Clarke knew exactly how quickly his causal smirk and crooked shoulders could become deadly.

“Relax.” Wells stepped back, hands raised as Murphy and his boys crowded just a little too close. Just outside arms reach. Clarke raised an eyebrow at Murphy, who winked subtly back at her. He had his game face on, the one that looked like mischief and gears turning.

“We’re just trying to figure out where we are.” Her old friend sounded casual, confident.

“We’re on the ground.” Bellamy’s voice joined the conversation from maybe a dozen feet away, where him and Octavia had been having a hushed discussion with . . . Was that Miller? Did he remember too? “We’re obviously not on Mt Weather. What else do we need to know?”

He was teeing one up for her, and Clarke took a step forward only for Wells’ reckless confidence to outpace her.

His face twisted in annoyance. “We need to find Mt Weather. You heard my father’s message, that has to be our first priority.”

Clarke followed him forward, frowning deeply. Of course he’d want to find Mt Weather. Fuck. Her mind spun. She didn’t want to do this part again . . . But without it they wouldn’t know about the grounders. Nobody died last time. Maybe it was just sheer dumb luck, but she hoped they’d have that on their side again this time.

“Screw your father.” Murphy groaned from behind them. It might have been a touch exaggerated, but then as far back as she could remember so was everything about Murphy.

Miller raised an eyebrow from his position to the left of Bellamy. “What, Jaha, do you think you’re in charge here?”

Clarke bit back a sigh. They were right to make sure Wells didn’t get a grip on group leadership but all this petty bickering always got on her nerves. “Do you really think it matters who our leader is?” She looked around at the assembled children, eyes sweeping dozens of displeased faces. “What matters is that we’re stuck here, we have no food and no water. You all know as well as I do what that means.” She gestured back to the map behind her absently. “There should be a river not far from here in the direction of Mt Weather. We can go scout ahead and see what we can bring back. Mt. Weather is a 20 mile trek, and we could get there before dark if we had to, but if we have some water we can stay the night here and figure the rest out tomorrow.”

The crowd was muttering, as much in assent as dissent, which was better than last time.

“You want us all to just go waltzing through the forest to find a river that might not even be there?” Bellamy sounded incredulous, which was almost funny to hear on his guard uniform with his hair all slicked back. Still, she appreciated the shots he was lining up for her.

“No.” Her voice rang out through the clearing. Huh, looks like she had slipped into her commander tone without even realizing it. “Just a small group. Hopefully we can carry up enough with just a handful of people.”

Wells growled softly beside her. “And we need start preparing for tomorrow. Who knows how long we’ll last without those supplies.”

“Oh ho ho, look at this everybody, it’s the Chancellor of Earth.” The bite of Murphy’s mocking voice came from behind her, and Clarke turned. He had taken a few steps forward, but stopped when his eyes caught hers. They weren’t looking to start a fight, and this wasn’t pick on Wells day. They just needed to move this along. He knew that as well as she did, but he was also an ass and probably thought he could dodge anything Wells sent his way. Which he could, without a doubt, but she really didn’t want any more of a scene.

Wells had other plans. “You think thats funny?” His shoulders were squared wide, and he took a threatening step towards Murphy.

“I think it’s hilarious that you think you’re some hotshot down here when your father thought he was sending us to our deaths.” Murphy didn’t move, but his stance shifted slightly, just in case. His tone didn’t though, still mocking and derisive. Though, she’d guess that was less at the son and more at the father. They all had their issues with the once Chancellor Jaha.

“Well unless we get to Mt Weather, we’re going to die anyway.” Wells sounded angry. He looked angry. Clarke saw the move before it happened, Wells starting forward to push Murphy back. It wouldn’t have even hurt the other boy, but she saw the exact second Murphy’s instincts kicked in.

His heel landed midway up Wells’ calf, pushing the bigger boy back and to the ground.

Wells groaned as he heaved himself up, squared up for a fight with his arms in front of him in some mockery of a boxing position. The crowd was jeering around them, calling taunts and laughing. Murphy still looked confident and relaxed, but Clarke knew the way his lips curved down showed his reluctance at carrying this any further. Wanting a scene and wanting to beat a kid he’d knows as dead for years now into the ground were two different things.

Murphy sighed and rolled his shoulders back. “You really want it to go this way?”

Wells shifted his fists in a way he probably thought looked pretty tough. Clarke took half a step forward. She wasn’t going to let any ass kicking happen today.

And of course, Finn chose that moment to launch himself down from the side of the dropship. Always had to be the hero. She had forgotten about that, and for a split second panic flashed through her as she wondered what else she must have forgotten, but it was gone as soon as it came. She had to focus on the now. The crowd silenced.

Finn, of course, squared off against Murphy. “Kid’s got one leg.” He gave Murphy at dirty look up and down. “How about you wait until it’s a fair fight.”

Murphy’s eyes narrowed for a split second, shoulder and back muscles rippling in restrained frustration. Not at Wells, she could tell, but at Finn. She could understand the impulse.

A second later though, barely enough time for her to catch his displeasure, a wide grin split Murphy’s face. He put his hands up almost mockingly and took a dancing step back. “He started it.”

Finn snorted.

“Hey, Spacewalker!” Octavia made her way forwards, swaying in a way that almost hid her own intensity. She gave him a playful thump on the shoulder, one that was probably a bit harder than strictly necessary from the way the corner of her lips twitched and the way Finn winced. “How about you rescue me next?” The venom in her voice was well hidden, especially when his title slipped through her lips, but Clarke knew her well enough to hear the acid underneath.

Clarke met her eyes and raised a surprised eyebrow. Octavia raised a disparaging one back, almost mocking her for not being able to put a stop the the chaos. She knew she shouldn’t be surprised at how well Octavia adapted, but seeing her play at being so casual wasn’t at all was she was used to from Bloodreina. Then, Bloodreina’s ferocity and stone cold had been what her people had needed, it in all likelihood wasn’t what was buried underneath. Clarke understood that best of all.

It broke the tension though. The kids all laughed, and Finn’s face went from determined and violent, a look that sent shivers down her spine as she remembered exactly the extent of his rage, to a wide cheerful smile. He looked like a puppy now. Murphy took the opportunity to bail with a small nod to her and a glance at Octavia, pushing one of the boys in front of him lightly away from the scene. He threw a wary glance at Finn too, and Clarke didn’t miss that. She understood. He was a ticking time bomb, and one she just hoped she could diffuse.

Bellamy wandered over, both eyebrows lifted in amusement and expectation. He looked absolutely ridiculous with his hair slicked back like that, and Clarke’s hand twitched. She wanted to muss it up. So much was foreign here, she didn’t need her friends looking so different either. Or her own body to feel so fragile. She was sure they felt the same way. Her hand came up to play with her hair in an absent tug. Maybe it was time for a cut.

“What?” Octavia drawled up at her brother. “Clarke couldn’t control her boyfriends, someone had to do it.”

Bellamy snorted. Behind him, Miller snorted a lot louder.

Clarke sighed, deeply, loudly, and in a way she hoped conveyed her disappointment. When she looked up, she scanned Miller. He looked young, and almost gangly, but when he caught her eyes on him her nodded at her and sent her a grim look she recognised all too well. Just a little too bloody to be another innocent boy. Okay then. Another member added to their team.

“I’m allowed a little fun if I want it.” The once and possibly still to be Queen grinned up at Bellamy, words sounding like they were echoes of a conversation the two must have had the first time around.

Bellamy let out a quiet chuckle. “Don’t let me stop you. The poor boys.”

Octavia’s grin widened to show teeth. Then she shook her head and sighed. She wasn’t so playful when she spoke again, echoes of authority sharpening the edges of her voice. “We better get moving. I’ll round up something to carry the water back in.” She strode off, purposeful and dignified, and Miller fell in step behind her a second later. Bloodreina and her loyal guard. For a fraction of a moment that silhouette eclipsed the one she was seeing now.

Bellamy shook his head with a gentle smile. “I’ll -“

“You’ll stay here.” Clarke cut him off as she bent down to inspect Wells’ leg. She tossed a pointed look up at him from her squat. 

Bellamy gave her a considering look. “You could use the help.”

“We’ll be fine.” She sent him a wan smile. If he came with them, she was sure he’d be the first across the water. If they were going to lead these kids, if they were going to keep them safe, she needed him healthy and whole. Ideally, no one would cross the river. But there was too much at stake for them to have no warning of the existence of the grounders. She could let one of them go across knowing and hoping they would be as okay as they were last time, could rationalize it. Bellamy couldn’t. Neither one was better than the other as far as traits went, but if she could she’d spare him having to make the hard calls that hurt him so much more than her. Not that they didn’t carve her raw.

Bellamy hesitated, then nodded. He didn’t move yet, but he swung his gaze from her to trace around the clearing.

Clarke turned her attention to Wells, who looked confused and concerned. She avoided looking at his face and focused on his leg. It didn’t look that bad. Probably wouldn’t even bruise too badly.

“So,” A smug voice called from a few feet behind her. Finn. “Mt Weather, when do we leave?”

“We’re just getting water.” Clarke frowned at him and stood. “But we’re leaving now, as soon as Octavia and Miller get back.”

She turned back to Wells. “We’ll be back in a few hours with water.”

“How are the two of you going to carry enough water for a hundred?” He sounded bitter.

Finn shrugged and turned, grabbing two from the group behind him, Monty and Jasper, and pulled them over. Monty was smelling some grass, and both looked a bit baffled. “Four of us.” Finn patted them on the shoulders. “Can we go now?” Clarke was stunned by the vision of all three of them clean and unscarred and so, so young for a moment, with wide doe eyes and hesitant falsely confident smiles.

“Six actually!” Octavia called, trotting over to the group with what looked like some passable buckets and waterproof tarp. Miller, who followed her closely, had some parachute cord and a few metal tubs of his own. None were particularly big, but that was probably good. She doubted any of them had any muscle tone to speak of at this point.

Clarke tossed them both a smile, and received a round metal cylinder aimed at her head in return. She caught it and laughed lightly. If Miller had really meant it she doubted she would have caught it.

Finn started forwards, and Clarke caught sight of his wrist. It startled her for a second, seeing the deep, dark scratch dragging down the side. She caught his arm.

“Were you trying to take this off?” She asked, almost dazed.

“Yeah. So?” He sounded casual, like it didn’t even matter.

“This wristband transmits your vital signs to the arc.” Piercing blue eyes pinned him into place. “Take it off, they’ll think you’re dead.”

“Should I care?” Clarke searched him. He really didn’t care. Did he not realize? Did it not matter?

“I don’t know,” her voice was bitter, accusative, “do you want the people you love to think you’re dead?” Raven had deserved better.

There was a moment of silence, and he had the decency to look a bit ashamed.

“Not just that.” Wells pushed himself to standing with a groan. “Do you want them to follow us down here in a few months? Because they wont if they think we’re dying.”

Clarke turned to look at him, then back at Finn. They all looked sober now. She sighed and dropped Finn’s arm. She’d drop it for now. There was nothing she could say to fix it anyway. Not now at least.

“Come on. Let’s get going.” She gestured them ahead and turned to look at Wells.

Their eyes met for the first time since they landed. He looked stubborn and vulnerable. She wet her lips. “You shouldn’t have come here, Wells.” The words were as fragile as she felt.

It was all she could make herself say, his dead brown eyes like a ghost behind hers, and she turned and headed after the group before she had to see how those words changed the look on his face.

She jogged to catch up to the group, boys already plowing ahead into the forest eagerly. It was like this was some grand adventure to them. It probably was. The thought of that, and of how wrong it all went so quickly, absolutely sickened her.

Octavia caught her eye as they started into the brush. “Before you get any ideas, this isn’t all on you.”

Clarke turned to her, smile weak but firm, and nodded. She was right. They’d figure something out together. They’s save as many as they could, for as long as hey could, and they’d do this better than last time. Maybe. It was all she could hope for if this wasn’t a dream, and the longer it went on the less and less it seemed like it.


	3. Queen No Longer

Octavia wasn’t sure what to do with herself. It had been so long since she wasn’t fighting, actively fighting, just about every day of her life. She was trying not to draw attention to herself, to be carefree and comfortable and teasing, playing the girl she had been all those years ago, but she was lost. She wanted to kick things, to draw her blade and rush forward. She wanted to taste blood even if the copper taste made her own run cold. It was how she knew to be useful. But she couldn’t do that. There wasn’t anything to fight now. And when their enemies came for them, there was a good chance they would be people she was more used to fighting along side. She could do it, she could hurt them, she knew how clearer than any other enemy they’d ever face given that she had stood with them for so long, but she didn’t want to.

The 100 had been the first place she really felt she belonged. After Mt Weather and her training with Indra, Treekru had become her home. She didn’t want this to come to blows. Which was strange and not something she had felt in a long time. Her first family against her second one. She didn’t know what she would do, how she could do anything.

And Lincoln. She was trying not to think about Lincoln. His death . . . It had been so hard to see with good in the world. It still was, sometimes. Bellamy, Clarke, Raven, they had all helped her feel human again. But to see Lincoln again . . . Would he love her like he had before? Would she have to lose him all over again? She didn’t know if she could handle that. She’d kill Pike herself before it would come to the end it had the last time, but he wasn’t the only danger in the world.

They were passing through a field of flowers, pretty purple things. She had missed it up here so much. It ached to see this forest whole again. She knew there was nothing they could do to stop the wave of radiation that was coming, but she hoped they could find a way to bring life back into the world after. Perhaps she should start collecting seeds she thought with a chuckle. It sounded unfairly like a giggle now, with her younger lungs.

Ahead of her, she watched Finn pluck a bloom from beside a fern. He turned to her with a flirtatious smile, and Octavia made herself smile back. Even as she took the flower from him, her mind wasn’t on that moment. It was on Raven, who he seemed to have moved on from very fast, and on the atrocities he’d committed, that he would commit. If it came to it, she’d slit his throat before she allowed him to kill her people’s children. Hopefully she could spare Clarke the trouble.

Behind her, Monty and Jasper were talking quietly between themselves, mostly inaudible. They sounded so happy. That was one thing she knew she could fight for. Keeping the two of them whole and happy.

She did catch some of it though.

“That, my friend, is poison sumac.” Monty half laughed.

Octavia knew that, of course, but she also knew . . .

“Don’t worry, the flowers aren't poisonous, they’re medicinal. Calming, actually.” Monty continued. She turned her head to toss him a smile over her shoulder and saw him smile awkwardly around the flower in his mouth.

“His family grows all the pharmaceuticals on the arc.” Jasper sounded a little exasperated, but proud of his friend.

Nathan, who was halfway between them and Clarke, turned and frowned at them. “Could you hurry it up a little? At least try to keep up.”

“Come on,” Finn groaned “are you really blocking all this out, Miller? What about you Clarke?”

Nathan looked around. He looked serious, stern. But Octavia had known him for years in the close quarters of the bunker. He had to be as awestruck by this as she was, he was just keeping focussed on the mission. She wished she had his focus, his drive. 

Clarke responded, turning around. She looked exasperated and drawn. “We need water, and food if we can find some. I haven’t seen or even heard any animals. That either means there aren’t any at all, or we’ve scared them all away. Either way, not good.”

“Maybe the radiation killed them all, and has already started killing us too.” Jasper added cheerfully.

“Thanks, Jasper.” Nathan responded sarcastically. At least he was in a good mood. Not that anyone else could probably tell. 

Clarke turned around and started off, Nathan jogging to catch up to her. Tension hung in the air. Octavia did not roll her eyes, she was too proud for that now but the itch was there all the same, and started after them.

After a few beats, she heard the boys behind her begin to move.

“I gotta know, what did you two do to get busted?” Finn’s voice grated on her, and since he couldn’t see her face, Octavia let herself scowl darkly.

“Sumac isn’t the only herb in the garden, if you know what I mean.” Monty almost stumbled over his words, all of them climbing over themselves to get out fast enough. 

“Someone forgot to replace what we took.” Jasper teased, not bitterly as she remembered him being but full of easy forgiveness.

“Someone has apologized like,” Monty made a little wounded noise. “A thousand times.”

Octavia didn’t turn around. She couldn’t make herself. But her blood boiled in her veins in the same way it had when she had defended her people in the raid on Eden. These were her people too, her friends and her family and her blood.

“What about you Octavia? What did you get locked up for?”

“Being born.” She laughed at the words, not grim like the first time they had crossed her lips but amused. Even by the Ark’s definition, that was the least of her crimes. She was pretty sure her five years leading the people of the vault had just been one big criminal act. Her family had all killed. They would all kill again. It was funny now to think of how fragile life on the Ark had been, how despite all the absolutes and the punishments they had endured up there in the stars how weak they had become. It may have been a nightmare, but it was a cowards nightmare.

Monty muttered something to Jasper, but she was barely paying attention. Ahead of her Finn pushed closer to where Nathan and Clarke were crouched in the brush. She crept behind them, silent as she could in her untrained body. It was a deer. Food. If they could kill it.

They didn’t have any weapons, really. Miller had made a rough spear out of a pipe and a bit of ship that had split in the crash bound with some parachute, but it was dull and unbalanced. They hadn’t had time for anything more, but she also hadn’t remembered finding anything like this. A prey animal. Maybe if she had they would have tried harder.

Before they even had the chance, one of the idiot boys behind her stepped on a dry stick loudly. The buck looked up, then swung to face them in alarm. It’s face was split nearly in two with some strange mutation. Finn swore loudly next to her as he caught sight of it and the animal bounded away, startled. She frowned. They could have eaten that. She sighed. Idiots.


	4. Some Things Stay the Same

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The divergence begins.

Bellamy looked around. Chaos, but happy chaos. He knew dark days were coming, knew the sooner they started making camp the better they’d be. But he couldn’t begrude the kids today. One day of happiness, of carefree beauty here in paradise.

Murphy was already busy though, climbing all over the drop ship and shouting jeers to a group of boys that looked to be collecting firewood and shouting back at him. One of them was digging in the dirt with a sheet of metal.

“Why do I have to do this again?” The boy in the dirt whined.

“So we don’t burn down the whole damn forest.” Murphy called back, tapping on the side of the ship distractedly. “If we want a fire we need a pit first.”

“Why aren’t you doing it then.” This time it came out with a grunt. The boy shifted position. It seemed more like he was protesting for the hell of it than that he actually minded.

“I’m looking for shit to light this sucker up.” Murphy turned to look down with an almost feral grin splitting his still weaselly face.

“Hell yeah!” One of the other boys shouted cheerfully, using one foot to snap a thick fallen branch into more manageable pieces.

Bellamy maneuvered in between the boys and trees until he reached the edge of the ship, grinning softly at how eager they all seemed to be to “light this sucker up”.

“Murphy!” Bellamy called, standing a few feet back from the walls of the ship with his hands at his hips.

“Yeah boss?” Murphy called down as a reflex, nimble limbs climbing over each other on the scramble down.

Bellamy laughed. “You’re in a good mood.”

Murphy shrugged. “Might not all be daisies but no one’s gonna try to kill us for a little bit and there are trees, so I’d say we’re above average right now as far as shitholes go.” A frown caught the edge of his lips and for a moment his eyes sharpened. “I’m sure we’ll figure out something when everyone’s back.”

“I’m sure you’re right.” He was, he might not be happy about being back at the beginning with all their work laid to waste, but he’d be lying if he said he’s never dreamed of doing things better.

“What did you need?” Murphy raised an eyebrow at him.

“We need Raven.” Bellamy half sighed. Even if she didn’t remember like they did, they needed her. They’d have all been dead an uncountable number of times over if not for her.

“We do.” Murphy agreed cautiously.

“Which means we need to get her down here.” He said.

Murphy frowned sharply. After a moment of thought he blew a breath out his nose in a light laugh. “I’d say we should talk to the others about this, but honestly that just seems like a lot of trouble for eventual agreement. What do you need?”

Bellamy looked around. The area they were in wasn’t bare of people, and while none seemed to be listening in, that could be fixed. He tossed Murphy a playful wink and raised his voice just enough to project but not enough for it to seem like it was truly intentional, just incautious and perhaps arrogant. Which, to be entirely fair, he was at this point the first time around. “No, I’m not a real guard. But the real ones will be down soon enough. You don’t think they’re actually going to forgive you for your crimes do you? Even if they do, then what? Are we all just going to turn into model citizens over night? Turn in our freedom to, what, pick up their trash? If we get lucky? You think they’re really going to stop seeing us as criminals, as below them?”

“You got a point?” Murphy’s voice was only a little quieter then his, but not discrete but any definition. His face was also split in a shit eating grin. Little fucker always did like making a scene.

Bellamy answered, face serious and eyes alight with just the same amount of mischief. He knew there were ears on them now. He’d forgotten how much fun games with less than immediate life and death odds could be. “No, I’ve got a question.”

\-----

“Hey, you know what I’d like to know?” Finn sounded like a brat, and Nathan grit his teeth as subtly as he could. “Why send us down today after 97 years?” His foot almost caught on the undergrowth on the hillside as they made their way down, and from his position taking up the rear of the group Nathan had a clear view of it. Almost enough to make him laugh, but his control was better than that and he wasn’t looking to start a fight. Instead he covered it in a very light cough.

He didn’t have anything against Finn, not directly. He hadn’t known him well enough to care much for the boy himself when he’d died, but he had witnessed the mess that whole thing had caused. In all honesty, it wasn’t even really Finn he blamed for the whole thing. The adults had been the cause of more of the dramatics than any of the 100. Except perhaps Raven, but he couldn’t blame her either, really. She had loved the arrogant fool. And that was it, really. He was arrogant, and he was a fool, and the way he had come crashing back to Earth the last time had nearly gotten them all killed. He’d barely paid any mind to the boy the first time, but now watching his easy strut and his grin so wide and brimming with wild energy, it was easy to believe he’d be so incautious.

Clarke turned her head enough to catch his eye in some unspoken question, and he shrugged at her. He may have been an advisor for years, but he hadn’t been hers and he hadn’t ever encountered a situation like this. She was the only one right now who had any reason to know why they were all truly down there. If it were him, well, he’d probably play it closer to the vest. Jasper wasn’t exactly the quietest even if right now he was relatively sane. Monty he trusted, or at least trusted to have a good head on his shoulders. Finn was an idiot and likely thought he was the truest authority on all things, or at least acted like it. But it was Clarke’s decision, and somehow or another she usually made the best available call. Or at least had enough general competence to force any call she made work out well enough in the end.

“Maybe they found something on a satellite,” Monty responded after a beat. It would have been the most reasonable explanation behind sending party down to the ground. “An old weather satellite or-”

She let out a quiet sigh Nathan doubted the cluster in front of them could hear and interrupted. “The Ark is dying. Or, really, it’s already dead and is just up there running out of time.” Her voice was even and tired, quiet frustration and disappointment. Likely at the current administration. It was a feeling they both knew well.

The party in front of them stopped and stared back at them. Clarke plowed on ahead through the gap they’d left between them. Nathan slowed to a stop at the end of the group himself, not out of actual surprise just reluctance to leave their tail unguarded even if he knew there wasn’t any real threat quite yet.

“They’ve got maybe three months with the current population. With us gone they might have bought another one, but it’ll get bad long before time officially runs out.” Her face was pinched enough and once that was out of view, he could tell by the set of her shoulders she was not happy to be having this conversation.

Finn kept right behind her shoulder and the group picked up again so as not to loose them, looking ever so slightly faint. When he spoke his voice was soft, something approaching gentle. “So that was the secret they locked you up to keep? Why they kept you in solitary? Floated your old man?”

Smooth. Nathan ducked his head to ride his long and frustrated blink, eyes crinkling at the edges. That was an appropriate thing to say, truly tactful.

Clarke didn’t turn her head to look at him. There was a half second break between his words and her response though, and Nathan hoped that meant she was choosing her words carefully. “My father was an engineer. He discovered the flaw, maybe more of his coworkers knew but I never had a chance to find out. He was going to tell everyone, thought the people had a right to know. The council disagreed, my mother disagreed.” She hesitated over the word mother. Nathan had his own feelings on Abby Griffin, but selling out her husband had been one of her bigger mistakes. “They were afraid of panic, of riots or despair. He didn’t care, thought it was too important not to go public anyway. I was with him on that.” She sounded almost wistful, and Nathan sympathized. The days in the sky box, what had gotten him locked in there in the first place, it was so long ago for them. So petty. “Then . . . Then Wells . . .” She hesitated.

“What, turned in your dad?” Monty actually did sound gentle, but he didn’t sound like he was demanding information like Finn had. Just a quiet and respectful request for information. His and Jasper’s eyes met for a moment, communicating something that was likely grim.

Clarke started again with a thick sigh. “No, my mother did.” The group froze for a second. “Wells let me believe it was him. He’d rather I hate him than hate my mother. But he didn’t do anything really, I’m not sure his dad even knows he knows about it. The guard got to my dad, got to both of us, before we could actually do anything.”

The group started again, and Jasper let out a low, quiet whistle. He probably thought Clarke wouldn’t hear it. Maybe she didn’t, but Nathan definitely did.

She let the silence stretch after her for a second before starting up again, this time her voice swung towards clipped. He was sure she wasn’t looking for more questions on that aspect. “That’s why it had to be now, why it was worth the risk. Not that losing delinquents is much risk to them. Even if we die, maybe they have another month to try to fix things.”

“They’re gonna kill more people aren’t they?” Monty’s voice was slow, horrified and quiet. Nathan knew they would. He had seen it. A meteor shower of corpses covering the sky. He wished it made him feel as sick as Monty must feel. The ache was dull now. Hundreds of casualties and all he could think was that is was better they had died then. Losing oxygen in their sleep was so much better than a fiery death or one by radiation.

Clarke didn’t answer. No one did. They all knew the answer.

It was Finn who disrupted the silence, grabbing hold of Clarke’s shoulder and turning her halfway to face them. The group stalled around them. “We have to warn them.”

“There’s nothing we can do down here with the communications blown. If they want to sign their own death warrant, let them.” His queen blew past the two of them, not stopping, shoulder catching Finn’s.

“You don’t mean that!” Jasper rushed after her, all limbs and indigence. Nathan knew she didn’t, not really, but they also both knew that sections of the arc had gotten down fine, and that most of those that had landed had died in one way or another in the years that followed.

Clarke’s clear blue eyes met Finn’s. “She’s right, there’s nothing we can do from down here.” She turned.

\-----

“Damn, I love Earth.”

Octavia almost laughed, there was no way Jasper could think she wouldn’t hear that. Still, she peeled the rest of her pants off and then her shirt, dropping them in a pile a short ways from the river’s edge. There was no use in ruining a perfectly good outfit. The boys continued to make noises behind her, she wasn’t sure if it was still just Jasper or if the other two had joined in. She recognised the call of a mocking wolf whistle from Nathan though, and did laugh at that. She turned her jagged, lazy smile to meet his warmly amused eyes.

“Octavia, what -” Clarke didn’t sound truly indignant, but her utter surprise tended to swing a bit demeaning.

Octavia didn’t let the other woman get any further though. “You wanna try a bit of fishing Miller?” She called, outwardly playful enough to disguise the very serious inquiry.

Her friend looked at the awkward spear in his hands and tested the weight carefully. She knew he wouldn’t agree to this hunt unless he was truly able. They’d laughed about her first encounter with river worms one night in the bunker in between stories of rough training and her idiot brother, just drunk enough on wine from some plant or another too diseased to do anything but ferment. He knew what she was asking. He was probably getting hungry too though, and they could cook eel as well as they could anything else.

After a moment her turned his head to meet her, head cocked in challenge. “Sounds like fun. Never had Earth fish before.” She didn’t know if it was true, but she knew the readiness in his stance well enough.

She nodded at him. The thing could definitely kill her if they weren’t careful, but they were also stupid and she’d gotten away last time with only a minor bite wound. Well, minor to her now.

There was a tall outcropping of rocks, and as good as she knew it would feel to dive into the cool water, it probably wasn’t the best way to go about this. Maybe after they got rid of the predator.

“Octavia -” Clarke bit out, cautious and bewildered. Her tone was a warning, and Octavia wondered if she would drag her away from the water by force if it came to it.

“Relax Princess.” She soothed, eyebrows raised in challenge.

Clarke took a step back in defeat with a sigh. Good.

Nathan stepped away from the group towards her as she climbed from a patch of higher rocks to something resembling a shoreline. Or at least a shallow slope before the drop down to the clear water below. She dipped her toes in the cool water and sighed. It was incredible. The water was still as she ventured deeper, sitting down at the edge of the stone and dangling her legs into the deep. Nathan stood next to her, spear held casually at ready.

“I don’t see any fish.” He remarked.

She made a big splash with her feet and grunted. Maybe it needed something a little more obvious, or maybe they had just made better time than before. It looked about the same spot, with the tall rocks and the little pier, but if it was out hunting elsewhere and they were early . . .

“How’s the water?” Jasper called, peering off the what was probably the same rock she’d dove off before.

“Fantastic, but don’t scare off my fish.” She called back, as teasing as she could allow. He laughed.

“I don’t see any.” He laughed, shedding his coat with a wide grin.

Octavia would get in all the way before she allowed him to put himself into a risk he didn’t know was there, but luckily she didn’t have to. The water began to swirl off near her left by the other bank. She braced herself to push back to the shore and splashed again.

“Octavia! Get out of the water!” Jasper shouted after a still moment, panic in every note.

One more second, two, the great worm sped towards her.

It opened it’s flapped mouth to strike, teeth flashing in the sun. She scrambled backwards, more inelegant than she’d been in a long time. Slower too. It caught her above her ankle, short hooked teeth gripping her flesh even as it’s momentum carried it forwards, slamming them both back against and then up the rough rock. Fuck. She growled deep.

Another flash, this time metal, and Nathan’s spear was buried in grey flesh. It detached, five lips wailing a pained cry as her warrior worked to heave it onto the shore. It struggled, catching her with rough skin as it flailed. It cried again.

His spear was stuck through the head, or maybe the throat. It was strong, and big, but out of the water it was also next to useless. As he heaved it further up the shore, its cries grew shriller and more rasping. Maybe it was drowning in the air, or maybe it was bleeding out. Either way, it appeared to be dying. Not her problem any more.

Her leg throbbed. It hurt so much more than she’d imagined. More than so many of her later wounds. She’d never though too deeply about whether pain tolerance was physical or mental, but she had an answer now she guessed. Physical, definitely physical. Octavia pushed herself out of the water and leaned on a tall rock nearby.

Clarke was on her before she could begin to inspect the damage herself, the other boys buzzing like concerned flies around her. They said things, probably, but the overlapping voices ran together with the faint ring of adrenaline in her ears.

“It doesn’t look that bad.” Clarke sighed. She turned her sky blue eyes upwards, brow and lips creased into a scolding look that bordered on motherly. “You should have been more careful. We had no way of knowing what was in that river.”

Except they had, and that was exactly why Clarke was scolding her. 

The eel screamed again, but it was cut off with a wet noise as Nathan pulled his spear out roughly. It collapsed then, not even twitching.

“Look,” He said, eyes sparkling and lips turned up in easy mirth. “Dinner.”

She knew it was joy at a job well done, but she wondered for a moment if his smile looked more bloody to the others.

Clarke just huffed and began tearing Octavia’s old shirt up to create a rough bandage. That was probably smart. Even as shallow as those teeth had torn, she was still bleeding, and she wasn’t keen to deal with an infection if something go into it. She hissed through her teeth as Clarke tightened her knot.

Standing may not have been a great idea, but it was getting dark now and like hell she was going to let them camp out by the river out in the open like this. She kept her weight off the injured leg though, testing to see how much she could get away with. It didn’t seem to hurt her range of motion at all, but it hurt like hell. Probably for the best. If she wanted anything resembling her old pain tolerance back she’d be better not pulling away from pain for now.

“Octavia, are you okay?” Jasper looked ready to catch her if she fell, expression an odd mix of worry and determination.

“I’m -” She shifted her weight and bit back a groan. “I’m fine, just a bite.”

Jasper looked to the massive dead eel and then back at her, doubt and incredulity and something like awe painting his gangly frame.

She didn’t give him a chance to voice it though, forcing cheer into her voice and a smile onto her lips as she addressed the group. “So, where are we camping?”

“Camping?” Monty sounded bewildered.

“It is getting dark.” Finn frowned, eyes tracing the cloudless sky as blue turned slowly grey.

“Are, will we be safe?” Monty was looking at the eel with wide eyes.

“We’ll be fine.” Clarke reassured, so much better at that than she ever was. “We can settle in a little ways back into the forest. Probably more comfortable than sleeping on river rock.”

One last look between the massive grey body of the river beast and the water it came from and nobody argued with that.


	5. And Others? Others Change

The fire had been raging for hours, a testament for Murphy’s force of will and sheer determination. Maybe it wasn’t a fantastic idea to basically send up a beacon as to where their camp was located. But Bellamy didn’t delude himself. The grounders had seen the crash. If they didn’t know the 100 were alive already they would shortly. Even if Clarke didn’t cross the river (and fuck he hoped she didn’t, but it was her call and they had to know and fuck- he didn’t envy her the decision), the source of water was close enough to the main Treekru village to have active patrols. They’d be spotted, probably followed too.

That, and he had no good reason at all to tell anyone not to light it up. Not now. Not when they didn’t know and they were all exhausted and drunk on freedom. And, well, he needed somewhere to start things off.

Murphy had been the first to step forwards, after hours of furious whispers spreading like sickness and rage stirring and boiling. His smile had been bright and dangerous as the bonfire he’d been silhouetted by, knelt with his arm extended forward on a fat log someone had hauled out at some point. The metal cuff caught the firelight more than the moonlight, glinting like a reminder of everything that went wrong. The crowd had been silent as the dead. He’d know.

He’d pried the first shackle from Murphy, who was a hundred things and one to him in every moment and a thousand and one now, never quite fitting into any box other than Murphy. It shouldn’t matter this much, it shouldn’t. So much had happened since the first time he’d done this, more bad than good but plenty of both. But it did. It was repeating a gesture. Reaffirming trust. It meant so much and absolutely nothing at all.

There had been silence, at the first taste of freedom these children had ever truly known. Fuck, they really were children. All of them.

There was no silence now. Murphy brandished the crowbar like victory, smile like a forest fire. Bellamy’s heart pounded in his chest with the beat of a makeshift drum and his throat throat raw from singing and chanting and roaring freedom and relishing in the smiles of this, his second family, who had been taken from him too soon and who would not be taken like that again.

Some dozen cuffs were piled to the side, no burning them this time when they could help the fight with ALI. Not that the kids new that. But they knew scavenging, and that was a good enough excuse. Things had only gotten rowdier as the night had gone on. Cheers crashed against the empty night, tinny beat of a makeshift drum picking up as the next volunteer stepped forwards, solemn and with teeth bared in a savage grin.

Each bare arm was brandished to the sky like a torch. This one was no exception.

It curdled his stomach, lurching with guilt as much as satisfaction with each crash of metal on the pile. Not because of he was dooming anyone on the Ark, he knew they’d make it down as well as or better than last time since he had no plans to destroy Raven’s radio. No, this echoed a side of him that made him sick, a shadow of a past that twisted in his gut like a knife. He remembered being paranoid, consumed by fear and desperate and still without any hope at all that he’d make it, that he’d be worth anything more than a failure of a brother and a soldier and a son.

He shook it off as best he could, huffing in breath to shout victory and freedom and triumph with the rest of his family. This was another chance. Unless he woke up in the morning to the same view of that brand new planet, this was another chance. He could do better. He would do better. These were his people, his family, his responsibility, and it would be different this time. They would be prepared. The 100, they’d all died one way or another last time, most bloody and terrified and in pain and far too soon. He wasn’t going to let that happen to them again. And to do that he needed Raven. They all did. So for everything he’d done that clogged his head and heart with guilt, this moment he wouldn’t let be added to that list.

There was a new cheer, a new crash of metal, a new bare arm help to the sky as if their tormentors might see it and know. Murphy lifted the crowbar and a middle finger like the Jaha above them could see it.

He sucked in a deep breath, a smile he didn’t have to fake as much as he felt he probably should in the face of this cheer stretching across face, and bellowed. “Who’s next!” his own arm to the sky in solidarity.

“What the hell are you doing?” Wells didn’t shout. He didn’t even raise his voice. But Bellamy heard it. Heard the quiet confusion and hurt and bubbling righteous rage.

He’d hoped to avoid this just a bit longer. There were a lot of reasons he didn’t like thinking about Wells, and the fucking white knight act wasn’t making it any easier. But this had to happen. It was better that it did. He just had to keep telling himself that.

One of Murphy’s goons pushed menacingly towards the boy, but Bellamy stalled him with a hand. Murphy really was a master at getting people on his side. But he’d really rather this not get violent. “We’re liberating ourselves, what does it look like?” He didn’t raise his voice either, but then he really didn’t have to. Wells’ attention was on him now and so was the circle of quieting bodies.

“It looks like you’re trying to get us all killed!” Wells spat, body curling into something aggressive and not just a little terrified. Good. He should be. They all should be. Though right now, fear wouldn’t help things. Not yet. Not of the Ark. “The communications system is dead. These wristbands are all we’ve got. Take them off and the Ark will think we’re dying, that it’s not safe for them to follow.” He looked halfway to heartbroken.

Bellamy let out a short breath, casting away the memories of the meteor shower of bodies haunting like a ghost behind his eyes. Of his first massacre, even if he hadn’t held the gun, or blade, or switch himself. “That’s the point, Chancellor.” It was a careful barb. He couldn’t have anyone listening to Wells, not the majority at least. He didn’t want to alienate the kid. He was terrified like the rest of them and better motivated than most. But.

But these were his kids. And the adults on the Ark had done nothing but fuck up from the second the Ark had begun to fail. It was better they all get used to relying on themselves now and Wells wasn’t going to let that happen without a fight. 

“We can take care of ourselves. Can’t we!” He raised his voice, calling to the crowd that raised their own in a strong affirmative.

“You think this is a game?” Wells pinned him with a dirty look he’d probably have deserved if this hadn’t been half an act and half ulterior motive. But then he spoke again, turning and addressing the crowd. “Those aren’t just our friends up there. They’re our farmers, our doctors, our engineers. I don’t care what he tells you. We won’t survive down here on our own.”

It was a good speech. It was also one he was prepared for. The 100 looked guilty now, unsure and unbalanced. But he knew what had worked last time and was better prepared now than then. He’d let him finish, and then he’d tear it down.

Wells took a soft breath and turned to him again. His eyes were confused and angry and afraid. He wanted to fix it. Fuck, his heart ached to fix it. But he’d have to prove that he could first. To Wells, to the group, to himself. “Besides, if it really is safe, how could you not want the rest of our people to come down.”

“My people are already down.” He put every once of disgust he felt at what the Ark had abandoned them to and what idiotic, disgusting things they had started when they’d made their way down into his words. All the rage and disgust and all the trust in his people, not theirs, that he had inside of him. “Those people up there, they locked my people up. They sent us down here to die, as experiments. Their children.” He turned to crowd. “Most of us apprenticed, some of us for years, before we were locked away and out of sight, waiting to die once those in charge wouldn’t look like mosters for ordering it. There were ancient civilizations that thrived with half of what we know.” And he turned again to Wells, locking eyes with the terrified child in front of him, voice softening because he couldn’t condemn this boy for his own naivety. “What do you think will happen when they come down? Do you think anyone is truly ready for this? How many people will have to die for them to make it down here? More like us? More experiments? They didn’t make good choices up there, driven by their own fear and cowardice. How can you say it will be different down here? If we,” He gestured “Are the first sacrifices now, how will we not be the first to be sacrificed again in a hard winter, if there’s not enough food right away. If them condemned us, our parents, for trying to survive, what do you think they’ll do to us for fighting for our own survival.”

The crow was silent as the dead. He heard a sob break.

He turned and stared at them, arms raised. “We can survive on our own, we’ll be better off building a fair system now than following the one that condemned us to die. We’re strong. We’re determined. We know what we have to do! We can live free!” His voiced raised slowly to a shout, mostly forced grin spreading across his lips. He only felt a little sick.

Murphy started the slow clap. Because of fucking course he would. But it broke the silence. Cheers erupted, desperate and feverish and full of hope. Bellamy’s eyes shone, half with tears and half with something like vengeance. He’d make it better. He wouldn’t let anyone, not Mt Weather and not the Ark and not the grounders, destroy his family again. Over his dead fucking body were they touching his kids.

Wells looked at him, broken, furiously clinging to what he knew as safe even with the camp cheering for a new start. “How could you?”

He frowned. Clarke could handle it, handle him, much gentler than Bellamy could. But he’d come this far.

“My sister was locked away for existing. She would have died for that crime, to prove a point. The second she turned 18 she was dead.” He spat the words, low and dangerous and bloody. “Most of our crimes aren’t much worse.”

“Mild arson.” Murphy snorted. “Didn’t hurt anyone, destroyed a few shirts at best and scorched a couple walls, maybe. All to the prick who dragged my parents off for stealing medicine, and that medicine the only reason I’m standing here.” His eyes, his words dark with vengeance. Most of them were long past their time on the Ark, but that didn’t make the crimes against them any more right. Didn’t make them any more palatable.

“I stole food, because someone took all of mine.” One kid chimed in. “I was fifteen, we all know kids that old get floated at their eighteenth.”

“Mum was a morphine addict, but they found it on me.” One of Murphy’s gang growled low.

“I fought back when they took my parents away.” Charlotte’s soft voice was a knife in the gut and he kept his face stony as he could, but it hurt. He promised himself, none of that would happen again.

“Truancy.”

“Got in a fight with my best friend over a girl, both here now.”

“Seconded, hah.”

“Stole medicine for my Dad, floated him and Mom and woulda done it to me too in a couple months.”

“Broke the nose of a guard trying to get fresh with my friend one too many times. Fucker shouldn’t’ve laid hands on her.”

“That was me. I had to stab him to keep him off me. But I don’t see him here, never heard that he got floated.”

One by one voices rose up from the rough circle. Confession after confession. Most heart breaking and only a few concerning. Well, concerning as in dangerous. They were all deeply, deeply shitty. Wells looked at them like they’d peeled his world apart. Bellamy hoped they had. He couldn’t keep playing his father. He’d probably been the most sheltered kid on the Ark, and that wouldn’t work down here.

It had been silent for a few minutes when Bellamy spoke up again. “We can take care of ourselves. We’re better off taking care of ourselves.” The circle nodded, one by one, eyes bright and burning with tears and with fire.

It started raining. Felt kind of appropriate, honestly.

Still, that meant they had work to do.

“Alright!” Bellamy cheered, voice loud and rough from shouting the night away, one fist pumping in the air. “Teams of ten, let’s see who can collect the most water!”

Wells was the only one frozen, cheer arising as a whole as the group divided up with more ease than he expected.

Murphy and his gang made their way straight to him. Seven in total including him, they’d need three more. Or, probably not, since Clarke’s party was off trying to find food and water on their own. Couple teams would be short, with them gone, but that would be fine.

Bellamy reached out a hand, easy boyish smile upturned and olive branch extended. “Wells, your people could use the help.” He wouldn’t, couldn’t condemn the boy for not knowing, for not having seen what life outside the Chancellor’s reach had been. 

Wells shook himself, took a deep breath, then a shakier one, and reached out his hand like a lost puppy.

Out of the corner of his eye, Bellamy saw white paint dripping down a face barely illuminated by the guttering fire, a silhouette in the shadows of the trees. He wondered what this would change.

\-----

They wanted to cross the river. The stupid, naive boys wanted to cross the river. And Clarke wasn’t going to stop them. They needed this. She took a breath. They needed this.

Jasper would be fine.

They had to know.

Except . . . It wasn’t going to be Jasper, this time. Octavia had him by the hem of his shirt, hand tangled in the thin fabric, asking him about the best way to transport the eel. His father had been - was an engineer. He looked caught up, gesturing clumsily and grinning like a fox. They had water collected earlier this morning, not as much as they would have without the eel, but enough to help. It sat back behind the tree line quite a bit, because she knew well they’d have to run. And like fuck she was leaving life saving supplies behind if she didn’t absolutely have to.

So it would be Finn then. She had mixed feeling about that. Mixed feelings about him, period, if she was being honest. And she tried to be, at least to herself.

Clarke watched with shuttered eyes and an easy smile. One peppy little jump, brown hair bouncing and a dimpled smile aimed right her way (she didn’t think of Raven, of how easy he’d moved on, she didn’t). He raced along the tall outcropping and jumped, makeshift rope barely holding his weight, tree limb bending as he soared clumsily, legs pinwheeling. He made it though, tumbling through the air and onto the little pier.

He stood and shouted victory. She laughed a raised a fist in solidarity, heart icing over slowly, Jasper cheering enough for all of them that weren’t quite loud enough behind her. Octavia joined him, shouting free and wild like she’d always been but so much more bloody than any supposedly innocent girl should be, her and Jasper nearly drowning out Monty’s quieter joy entirely. Miller was silent.

She waited.

She didn’t hold her breath or drop her smile, but her lungs began to sting anyway. Fuck, this had been the wrong call, hadn’t it? Please, don’t let him die here. What would she tell Raven? What could she?

An arrow sprung from his shoulder, sending him stumbling with impact and shock. Another hit the greyed wood seconds later. Then a third, straight through the lower leg stopping half in and half out.

That stole her breath more than the spear would have. So much more.

Jasper’s voice rang in her ears like blood, but she couldn’t make out the words. Octavia’s quiet, heartfelt curse, she did.

Yeah. Fuck.

“Finn!” She shouted. Wide brown eyes met hers, confused and terrified. “You have to swim! Get over here, quick, there’s no time.”

He blinked like he didn’t understand and she swore if she had to see him die this way, she’d kill him herself.

Another arrow only missed his chest because he turned to her, scraping too near to his side. The thunk snapped him out of the daze though.

“For fuck’s sake.” Octavia growled. “Across the fucking river! Do you have a death wish?! Come back!”

Finn hesitated, eye sweeping the river for another one of those eels and he dove. Inelegantly, because none of them had ever truly swam before, but it was a shallow river and desperation was a powerful motivator. He made it without another shot launched.

Clarke wasn’t sure what she said, but she knew she was speaking. And that she pulled him to the shore with a heaving breath of relief. It was different. It had been different. Shit.

The woods, they had to move. She pushed him into Jasper and Monty, already moving, Octavia bringing up the rear and Miller hauling up the eel beast onto his back, rope and parachute bulging and spilling over.

They had to move.

She grabbed the water, hauling two onto her back. She would dump it if she had to, but only if she had to, and if nothing else changed she wouldn’t. If nothing else changed. It felt like more of a risk than she’d have liked.

They were moving, trees not quite a blur. Camp. They had to get back to camp, quickly.

“What was that?” Finn asked, shaking voice heavy with pain, limping as much as running with Jasper almost dragging him forward.

She didn’t know. It was different. She didn’t know what different meant.

“We’re not alone.” She breathed, choking, into midday air. It felt just as ominous as it had before.


End file.
